Acceptance



Ummm, 17 actually.



OK, I made it to my first water aerobics class, participated, got my heart rate up and didn't die, though I wanted to.  When you hide from your body for as long as I have and pretend that you don't have one, it's kind of a shock to realize that yes in fact you do have a physical self and yes you have somehow become middle aged and yes you are going to be REALLY sorry if you don't wake up and start moving ASAP. 

 My body is a TRAIN WRECK.

But pain is a great motivator and I'm moving again for the first time in, oh, a decade and a half, I kid you not.  I swear I looked in the mirror the other day and thought to myself, holy crap, I'm not just a floating head.  Where did all of  THIS come from?  I have enough ass, belly and boobs to create a lifetime supply of soap.*  (Barb - that's a Fight Club reference.  See still Dark and Twisty!)

 

No one clued me in though that I was going to have all sorts of unpleasant reactions once I began to move again. (I can't even call it working out because I can barely keep up with the 80 year olds) But I am almost 20 years on the wagon and I kind of remember sobriety didn't feel so good at first either.  The key I think is to accept where I'm at and not judge or beat holy hell out of myself, which in the end will not be effective and will only keep me from doing what I need to do. This is how far down the scale (or up as it were) I've gone and I just need to accept it.

 

By the by, the last time I went with S&H to the gym, in addition to the water aerobics,  I attempted to ride a stationary bike.  This particular bike had a computer screen upon which one could see a virtual track and a pacer bike with the idea being to pedal and steer and STAY ON THE TRACK.  First Sunshine and Happiness had to help boost me onto the seat and then I couldn't keep my feet in the little footie thingies  (which reminds me of the last time I had my gyne exam and I almost got my foot caught inside the stirrup because instead of placing my heal on it like you're supposed to, I tried to shove my foot through it.  My doctor almost pissed herself.  She was like, "it's not a damn bicycle.")  Anyway I digress.

Turns out I wasn't able to pedal and keep myself on the track while watching my heart rate and rpms and I had to keep stopping to pull my shorts out my ass due to the friggin seat being up my anus.  Soooooo, I don't expect I'll be riding a real bike anytime soon.

 

It seems this whole getting my body to move thing is going to be an adventure. 

A really, really, long one.

D&T's Natural State

* It's possible to make soap from liposuctioned fat (just in case you didn't see Fight Club.)